


Growing Intensity

by ForeverEvan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverEvan/pseuds/ForeverEvan
Summary: 25 years after Harry Potter announced that Voldemort was back, Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament for the first time. Draco, the Head Librarian at Hogwarts, is surprised when McGonagall shows up to offer Hermione Granger as his library assistant. Clearly, something terrible happened to her. As he adjusts to her presence, he finds a curious attraction to his former school rival. It all comes to head the night before the last challenge, and it does not end happily ever after. Can Draco overcome his mistakes and let himself fall in love again?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21
Collections: School's Out For Summer





	Growing Intensity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KasmiAnn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasmiAnn/gifts).



> The world in which this story takes place comes from J. K. Rowling. This was written for the School's Out for the Summer Exchange by Draco's Den (Facebook Group). 
> 
> A heartfelt thanks go to my beta Lunamionny, who is a phenomenal writer and excellent at making stories even better than the first draft.

Hogwarts Castle Library

29 August, 2019

***

Draco finished placing the last book away in its spot, nestled along with the other texts in the Hogwarts library. He had assumed the post of Librarian after his wife Astoria had died whilst giving birth to his second child, a daughter he’d barely had the chance to call Cassiopeia before she’d followed her mother into the void. Consumed by his grief, when Headmistress McGonagall had turned up at Malfoy Manor demanding he pack his things and relocate back to Hogwarts with Scorpius, he hadn’t been in a place to argue. He was given the post of Librarian assistant to Madam Pince. Upon her retirement, he was thrust into the role of Head Librarian.  
  
Suddenly, there was a sharp tapping of wood against the heavy library door. Draco turned to see two people standing in his doorway. Minerva, the stubborn old bat, was moving her cane to the ground, a familiar authoritative grimace on her face. But he was ill prepared for the ghastly figure standing next to her .  
  
Hermione Granger looked catatonic. Her eyes did not leave the floor and her trademark bushy hair was wild with the summer heat. She looked like she was going to vomit at any moment. Without being able to stop himself, Draco took a voluntary step backwards. It wasn’t because he held to the notion that Muggle-borns were inferior and all that nonsense. He just didn’t want her to either cry or vomit on his Italian made dragon-leather loafers  
  
“Headmistress. And … Mrs. Weasley? Welcome back to Hogwarts,” Draco offered congenially, not knowing what was going on. He looked to Minerva, narrowing one eye slightly.  
  
“Mister Malfoy, I am glad to see you awake. I wanted to inform you that Professor Harris has made it known he will retire from Potions after this year. Congratulations are in order, as you will be filling that role.”  
  
He let the silence follow Minerva’s announcement, not changing the expression on his face. This was too good to be true. Once he had recovered from the loss of his wife and daughter, he’d begun to express interest in moving to a teaching role, either in Defence Against the Dark Arts or Potions. But Minerva had made it clear that the time was not right. So, why now? He let the silence hang until Minerva continued her explanation.  
  
“Ms. _Granger_ will be joining us as your apprentice this year. I assume that having memorized half the books when she was a student here will only help.” Minerva spoke Hermione’s maiden name carefully, and he watched the older woman look to her side for any reaction. Hermione only offered a small, painful exhale.  
  
“Very well,” Draco acknowledged.  
  
“She will remain in my chambers until we find proper accommodation in the morning,” Minerva added, sparing Draco the embarrassing duty of asking if she would be staying in _his_ chambers, which were just off the side of the library. He nodded, and watched as Minerva took Hermione’s hand and led her away.  
  
The next evening, Draco scanned the head table for Hermione as he came to join the start of the term feast. She wasn’t there in person, but the staff had all been abuzz when the Daily Prophet had come out that morning with an exposé that had explained Hermione’s return to Hogwarts. Hermione had two children with Ron, Rose and Hugo. Earlier that summer, there had been an accident with a wayward spell that had caused both children severe damage. They were being tended to at St. Mungo’s, and the prognosis for a return to normal life was good, given some time. A month or so later, Ron had publicly left Hermione for Lavender Brown and filed for divorce. Yesterday, Ron had been arrested after an inquiry by the Ministry uncovered evidence that he had attempted to harm the children intentionally in order to remove complications in their separation. No wonder Hermione looked so broken. Draco was rather horrified that Minerva seemed to be collecting her former students like abandoned puppies.  
  
The only thing that broke the gossip about the Granger-Weasley drama was the announcement that the Triwizard Tournament would be returning to Hogwarts for the first time in twenty-five years. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons delegates would be arriving soon, and shenanigans Draco was happy to avoid would be afoot. At least he could hide away in the library.  
  
For the next few weeks, there was no sign that Hermione was back at Hogwarts, but eventually Draco walked into the library early one Thursday morning to see her standing in the center of the room. She was dressed in traditional robes like any other professor, and her hair was combed and tucked away neatly into a plait. She was facing away from him, one hand resting on a stack of books on a table that hadn’t been put away from the night before. When he saw her, Draco realized he felt conflicted over dismissing her, or offering her some sort of wise remark, even though none came to him at that moment. So he settled for clearing his throat. Hermione slowly turned towards him and he noted that, while she had been cleaned up, her eyes were still red and puffy.  
  
“McGonagall dragged me back here at my lowest point, too,” he said, realizing how lame it sounded the minute he spoke. “I suppose the routine helped pull me out of it.”  
  
“I’m sorry about Astoria,” Hermione offered, and she looked down again, averting her eyes from Draco. “I read about it in the papers.”  
  
“Ah, so you know the irony of having your worst moments be front page news.”  
  
“I thought I had enough practice with Rita Skeeter,” Hermione said, and even though Draco saw the attempt at humor, he did not dare to crack as much as a single smirk.  
  
“Yeah, well, I thought I had enough practice at dealing with people staring at me. But that never goes away.”  
  
Hermione nodded, but still kept her eyes averted.  
  
Draco took a long breath, and then forced it out through gritted teeth. “Alright, then. If you are here to work, the books on that table need to be put away. And we have a few requests from some of the other professors to gather texts and scrolls for their studies. I’ll make a list of subjects for you while you see to those books.”  
  
“Right away, Malfoy,” Hermione said as she reached down to grab the first few from the stack and disappeared amongst the shelves.  
  
The next weeks faded into a comfortable routine. Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang melded into the crowds, giving a pop of color amongst the traditional black student cloaks. Draco found himself actively seeking out Hermione each time he stepped into the library, always finding her either absorbed in a book or already working on tasks to be completed. They often held conversations, commenting on the Triwizard Tournament or changes now that their children were old enough to be in school. An easy friendship grew amongst the stacks, and deepened with long hours and silences between speaking.  
  
One afternoon, Draco heard swearing coming from a few shelves away from his desk. Suspecting a student, he rose, preparing to tell off whatever weasel was disturbing his peace, only to find Hermione wiping at a paper cut that she’d no doubt got from one of the pages of the heavy manuscript she was shelving. With a chuckle, he reached out for her hand. Hermione looked like she was going to push past him and move away, but after a moment she allowed her hand to settle in his, her palm up. Draco used his other hand to fetch his wand, pointing it at her finger and silently conjuring the Episkey charm. Her skin pulled together, mending, with just the faintest hint of a line where she had been bleeding just moments before.  
  
As he was sliding his wand away, Hermione’s hand turned over, touching the tips of his fingers. Curiously, Draco watched as she traced the ridges of calloused skin and healed lines from his own paper cuts. Then, Hermione seemed to realize what she was doing and started to pull away, but he reached out his other hand to catch hers. “No, it’s okay,” he offered. And it seemed to be enough - she did not let go.  
  
Hermione’s cheeks flushed, and Draco realized he’d let his thumb run over the back of her hand. It was so quiet, Draco was sure he could hear his own heartbeat. Hermione was staring at him now, her lips pursed tightly but with big, stupid doe eyes. The entirety of his senses were lost to the witch in front of him. He knew she was still healing and putting her life back together, but her vulnerability was something entirely new to him. It was all Draco could do not to pull her into an embrace, which was entirely out of character. But Hermione seemed to be feeling whatever this was, too. She took a timid step closer, not breaking eye contact and not letting go of his hand. Draco felt himself leaning down, eyes closing as the smell of her shampoo filled the air.  
  
But before their lips could touch, a book was slammed down with intent on a nearby table. Draco jumped back and spun to face a stern looking Minerva, and he heard Hermione scurrying away in the opposite direction. _Coward …_ he thought, but not in anger. Only jealous that she would escape this awkward exchange and leave him to face Minerva alone.  
  
“Headmistress.” Draco said, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his face. He swallowed nervously, but otherwise kept his face neutral and his tone calm. With a scowl, Minerva pointedly leaned to one side as if searching for Hermione before straightening to give him a scrutinizing glare.  
  
“Hello, Professor Malfoy. I came to see how things were coming along.”  
  
“Very well, thanks,” Draco said, not offering more and not sure how much she had seen.  
  
“Excellent news,” Minerva said between clenched teeth as she kept her gaze between disapproving and annoyed. Draco had a feeling she had seen enough, after all. “I came to tell you that there will be a new shipment of material to prepare for the final challenge. I need you to make sure they end up in the contestants’ hands, one for each. We want this to be a fair fight.”  
  
“I can make sure that is arranged,” he said. “Just bring them here, or send for me if you’d like me to move them for you.”  
  
“I’ll do just that.” Minerva nodded, turning to leave, but as she got to the door, she turned to stare at him once more. “Malfoy, one more thing.”  
  
“Name it, Headmistress.”  
  
“Please, just … be careful.” She gave a knowing nod back towards the restricted section, knowing her meaning would be clear. And it was. Draco cleared his throat and bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the suggestion.  
  
Draco tried to avoid Hermione for some time after, but it was futile. They would run into each other, share awkward greetings and take leave as soon as possible. He celebrated with her when her children recovered and joined her at Hogwarts before the Christmas holidays. Her quarters had been assigned, and her children had permission to stay with her until they felt ready to sleep in their dormitories. Hermione did disappear over the break to visit Neville and Luna, but returned on time. Both Rose and Hugo eventually returned to regular student life, and even Hermione seemed to find more reasons to smile - even if Draco could only notice from a distance.  
  
It was getting worse as the year moved on. Every time he dared look in her direction it took longer to peel his gaze away. Hermione would catch him, narrowing her eyes as if giving a warning. This cycle continued throughout the spring.  
  
The evening before the final Triwizard challenge, Draco had found her reaching for a book on a shelf too high. He wondered why she wasn’t pulling out her wand, but he stood behind her, reached over her and retrieved the book, lowering it so she could reach it without standing on her tiptoes. As she grasped hold of it, their hands touched. Hermione froze, as did Draco. The silence was back, as if nothing else existed in that moment. He absently leaned down, mouth just centimeters from her ear. He breathed in her scent, then exhaled. Hermione tilted her head towards him while simultaneously leaning back into his chest, letting herself rest against him.  
  
He knew there was a choice to make. They were at the point of no return. He couldn’t keep working with her if every time they were together she reduced him to an incoherent slug. And he felt an electric jolt in his gut anytime they touched. He thought of her often. And, very unlike their school days, he felt incomplete if she was absent from his presence for too long. They had steered all conversation away from their growing connection, but she seemed to respond in kind. Standing there, touching more than they ever had before, Draco found himself admitting he was falling for his sworn childhood enemy.  
  
Draco’s thoughts completely escaped his mind when Hermione’s hand moved from the spine of the book to his wrist. Her fingers slipped inside his sleeve, gently rubbing his skin. The electricity inside of him intensified, and Draco let out a low moan right by her ear. Her hand moved, now trailing a line along the outside of his sleeve to rest on the inside of his elbow, fingers pressing into him.  
  
That did it. Draco pushed the book back into place, letting his arms fall around Hermione’s waist. He spun her around, catching her and pressing her against the bookshelf so she was facing him. They were both breathing hard. Her eyes were wild. And he’d never seen anyone in his life as beautiful as she was in that moment.  
  
“Hermione,” his whispered voice came out deeper than he could help. “I can’t.”  
  
Again, Draco realized as soon as the words left his lips that they were the wrong thing to say. _Merlin_ , he scolded himself internally. He had never needed to be so mindful of his words with a woman before. Hermione closed her eyes tightly, taking a few additional breaths to compose herself, but not before he saw a tear streak down her cheek. Draco felt the disappointment he’d caused like a slap to the face.  
  
Finally, she opened her eyes. But she also placed her palms on his chest, pushing him back. He immediately dropped his hands from her, even though he didn’t want to. “I’m always going to be that mudblood who was pals with Harry to you, aren’t I? Not good enough for a pureblood.”  
  
“No, that’s not it at all,” he tried to explain, but she raised a hand to stop him. Knowing better than to keep digging his own grave, he shut up immediately.  
  
“Then whatever the reason, I don’t want to know,” she said. Draco could feel her seething. “Tomorrow, we’ll act as if nothing has happened. The school year ends in a few days, we can make it till then. I...I just need a little space.”  
  
She didn’t wait for an answer, and stormed off before he could get a word in. She really was a stubborn thing, that charming personality trait was back in full force. But it was enough to keep him tossing and turning for all of that night. Draco avoided both the Great Hall at breakfast and the library in an attempt to give Hermione some space. He knew an apology would be needed for the momentary loss of control the evening before, but for now he would honor that request.  
  
After dinner, crowds of students, staff, parents, Ministry visitors, press and the like began making their way to the Quidditch pitch. In honor of the Triwizard Tournament twenty-five years ago, the final challenge would be an obstacle course with magical challenges. Draco procrastinated for as long as he dared, but finally left his chamber to join the observations from above. He silently took his assigned seat right behind Hermione  
  
When the challenge began, Draco was consumed by thoughts of the night before. It felt like an eternity whilst the rest of the crowd cheered and screamed at the events below, and Draco felt trapped. It was dawning on him what he must do.  
  
Finally, the crowd jumped to their feet, screaming and cheering. Hermione had risen to her feet in the excitement of the win. Draco stood too and tapped Hermione’s shoulder. She turned, and Draco blurted, “Hermione, I’m sorry.”  
  
“What?” Hermione shouted, stepping up on the seat to be closer to Draco, her cheek brushing his as she moved her ear to his mouth to hear him better.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, only just then realizing he was apologizing for what he was about to do. He moved his head back just enough to press his lips on hers. 

Hermione wasn’t broken anymore. Neither was he. But for a few terrifying seconds, whilst he anticipated that Hermione would pull away, Draco doubted this had been the right thing to do.  
  
But much to his relief, instead of pulling away, he felt her fingers running through the hair on the back of his head, and then she was pushing him to her. Draco let her lead now, Hermione’s lips opening to him as she deepened their kiss, both completely oblivious to their surroundings as the school year ended with a long overdue kiss beneath the firework lit sky.  
  
“What are you doing this summer, Granger?” Draco asked when they finally pulled away from each other, a devilish smirk on his normally expressionless face.  
  
“A whole lot of you, I expect,” Hermione grinned.  
  
Draco chuckled, despite himself. "Perfect."


End file.
